


fighting all the tides

by androgenius



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beach, Beach Sex, Cringe, Dry Humping, Dry Orgasm, M/M, Massage, Oblivious Felix, Pining Dimitri, matchmaker Sylvain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:47:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25388539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgenius/pseuds/androgenius
Summary: Dimitri goes into applying sunscreen to Felix's back with the best of intentions.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	fighting all the tides

**Author's Note:**

> You know how Sylvgrid and Co got their FEH beach debut? _WELL_. Naturally, I was of the mind that dmlx deserve their own beach fun. And then my boo [marureenu](https://twitter.com/marureenu/) drew my beach dmlx dreams into [reality](https://twitter.com/marureenu/status/1281343416283136009), but with bonus backstory to go with it. Which I then naturally had to turn into fic. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Whoever thought it a good idea to vacation in Boramas was full of it. 

Sitting here baking in the heat makes Felix feel like they're back at Ailell, the sun sweltering as it beats down on the lot of them. 

Sylvain will be sunburnt by tomorrow, he knows. Even here, under the shade of the beach bar's awning, his skin already looks like it's glowing from all his time spent in the water with Ingrid. Ingrid, who only seems to have gotten out of the ocean to wolf down enough food to satiate a whole company of men. 

Sweat pricks at his pores, the air sticky.

His gaze is drawn to Dimitri's form as if by an invisible string, pulling him there against his will. 

"How long is he going to sit there on his own, do you think?" Sylvain asks, Felix wrenching himself off of the sight.

"Why would I know?" More importantly, why would he _care_ what the boar gets up to in his free time?

Sylvain shrugs, which might be more infuriating than anything else he could have done in that moment.

He is concerned, though. But it's the boar's fault, hardly something done with intent. 

They're Faerghan. Used to wintry temperatures. Not… whatever this is. 

The boar hasn't moved. He's under the shade of an umbrella, sure. He's even found something to preoccupy his time, seemingly content to read a book in between wistfully staring out at nothing. By all intents and purposes, he should be fine. 

And yet…

He hasn't moved. Anytime Felix catches sight of his features, he looks vaguely miserable. And knowing what he does--

Sylvain is staring at him again.

"What," he snaps, wrenching his gaze off of Dimitri once more.

"Nothing! Just… thought you should go talk to him."

"Do you want to die."

"Not today, not particularly."

Felix lets out a growl, noncommittal at best. _So what_ if he keeps looking at Dimitri? It's not his fault. He just… knows what the heat tends to remind him of. 

Dimitri is… unlikely to be different from him in this regard. Anyone would be concerned. Sylvain doesn't know what he's talking about. 

"You go talk to him, then, if you're so worried," he finally rebuts only for Sylvain to push two glasses of… something in front of him.

"Go."

"What the fuck is this."

"One's for you so you don't murder me, the other one is for him. Go talk to him."

"One drink is not enough to even shave the edges off my murderous intent toward you right now."

"Look, I know I can be kind of an inconsiderate ass sometimes, but I care about my friends. Go. Talk. To. Him."

Sylvain has to force the glasses into his hand, but they end up there by some miracle regardless, the soft nudge against his back meant to encourage him instead of make him want to commit murder. 

"I'm still going to kill you later," Felix throws over his shoulder, making his way over to the boar. 

"Boar," he mutters, holding a glass out for him to take. "Take it or I dump it in the ocean."

"Hardly a need for that," Dimitri responds, a rare smile coming over his features as he accepts the proffered drink. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"Nothing." A beat. Then, "You looked absolutely miserable. A sorry sight for anyone who wanted to enjoy the view of the beach."

"Ah. I suppose I should have known you to wish to be such a good samaritan, Felix."

The bloom that spreads over his cheeks in response to Dimitri's teasing is _infuriating._ "Shut up."

"Perhaps I might persuade you to join me? I would enjoy your company."

Felix has to bite back the urge to ask _why,_ instead gritting his teeth as he drops down onto a beach towel. "Masochist," he grumbles instead, Dimitri offering him a smile. 

"Sylvain is looking a bit red, isn't he?"

"I hadn't noticed."

"I told him to put on some sunscreen just earlier, and I do believe that the professor did the same. I don't suppose he listened…?"

"I don't see why you'd care."

"Are you wearing sunscreen, Felix?"

He should have seen this coming. 

"Obviously not. I've been sticking to the shade. I'm wearing far more layers than any of you. I wasn't made for this weather."

"You should still wear sunscreen. Even if you just stay here-- the sand and the ocean reflect the sun, too."

"Fine. Then I'll leave." He knows it's a matter of his safety, that Dimitri is just looking out for his health in the same way that Felix was looking out for him earlier, however reluctantly. But he still resents the implication that Dimitri cares more about his health than keeping him here. 

Even if all he does is gripe at him. 

"Don't be ridiculous, Felix. I'd be more than happy to apply sunscreen for you."

"Is this a joke?"

"Of course not. I simply wish to help you."

If he wasn't burning from the heat of the sun before, he certainly feels that way now, Felix pulling off his light jacket and setting aside his drink to lay himself down onto his stomach, half-mortified. 

"Only my back, boar. I can do the rest myself just fine."

The chuckle that resounds behind him is a welcome sound despite how little Felix wishes for it to be one, Dimitri getting onto his knees on the towel beside him. A squirting noise follows shortly after, one that has him flushing to the very core. Ridiculous.

There's nothing… _sexual_ about this. Not even remotely.

Another squirt. _Where_ is his mind? This is _the boar._ Rubbing suntan lotion on him. It's not strange or sexual or-- 

_Anyone_ could do this and it wouldn't make a difference. Sylvain could do this. Ingrid, too. In fact, maybe she should. Then maybe his mind wouldn't run away from him for no reason whatsoever--

" _What_ is keeping you?" he snaps, turning to see Dimitri rubbing his hands together. 

"I was warming up the lotion, I didn't want to shock your back."

Dammit. That's actually a good reason, isn't it. Considerate, too.

"Just get on with it."

Laying himself back down, he's greeted by Dimitri's hands on his back, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. 

He's barely even begun touching him, and already he's reacting like a touch-starved fool? Maybe he really is hopeless.

Strong hands slide up his back, fingertips pressing into knots he didn't even know he had, Felix letting out a moan before he can stop himself.

Oh, _goddess,_ someone bury him alive so he might hide from his shame.

"Why," he grinds out, fingers digging into warm sand, gaze resolutely fixed ahead of him, "are you _massaging me._ "

"Ah… my apologies. It was not my intent to make you uncomfortable. Far from it-- you tensed up as soon as I touched your back and… one is, as a general rule, meant to massage lotion into skin, right?"

Is that true? It doesn't sound right, but Felix doesn't know enough about... sunscreen to dispute it. Why would he? He almost always tries to avoid the sun as a general rule.

"Whatever. Just hurry it up."

Dimitri doesn't seem even remotely intent on going any faster than he was before, fingers still seeking out knots to work out of his back, and… much as he wishes it didn't, it feels far too good for Felix to so much as _want_ to say anything.

He traces his shoulder blades, thumbs finding their way back up to his neck along the lines of his spine, eager hands moving on to knead at Felix's shoulders with just enough pressure to make him weak in the knees-- had he been standing, he most likely would have collapsed. 

It's infuriating, but Dimitri is _good_ at this.

"If I'm hurting you in any way--"

"It's _fine._ "

"-- or if there's something I could be doing better--"

"I _said,_ it's _fine._ "

"-- I do hope you'll feel comfortable enough to tell me."

What would there be to tell? It's fine. Hell, if anything, it's far more than fine, so much in the realm of mind-blowingly incredible that Felix can't help but worry that it _won't_ be fine for much longer. Dimitri's already gotten one moan out of him so far-- what other noises could he pry from his lips against his will?

Irritatingly dexterous hands slide down his back, putting pressure on all the right places along the way even as Felix holds in another noise threatening to escape him. 

"Are you almost done?" 

There's no heat behind it, Felix concentrating every ounce of his being on _not moaning._ Pathetic.

Dimitri seems to take the question to have been meant rhetorically, his hands sliding all the way down to the small of his back to concentrate on the tension there. 

_Oh goddess._

When his cock promptly twitches in response to Dimitri's exceedingly skillful hands, Felix's attention is drawn south to the mortifying realization that he is… rapidly hardening, his cock at quite possibly the worst angle for him to be having this particular problem. 

Mortified. He's absolutely mortified, with a bit of shame mixed in for good measure. The audacity of his body-- in response to _the boar_ touching him, no less--

"You're particularly tense here, Felix… would you mind if I continued?"

 _Yes!_ his mind screams at him. Yes, he'd very much mind. At least he _should_ very much mind. Dimitri carrying on without a care in the world while his cock becomes an increasingly present problem would be disastrous.

"No," he says instead. 

Without warning, his shorts are slid down a few inches, the waistband seconds from his becoming indecent. 

"What are you doing."

"Continuing," Dimitri says, as if that's an explanation. 

Wait. 

_Continuing down,_ not just continuing the massage. Much as it makes sense in hindsight what Dimitri meant, the realization does not ease the horror he feels even remotely. 

"Do you mind?" Dimitri asks, as ever pathetically polite and annoyingly considerate.

"No," Felix grumbles, which is, yet again, the wrong answer by far. 

Dimitri's magical hands wander lower, to the top of his ass. Wedged firmly between his body and beach towel, the twitching of his cock is starting to border on genuinely painful. Tucked down one side of his shorts, now it strains desperately against the obstruction of the ground beneath him-- not that Dimitri's ministrations, strong hands bearing down on his hips, his misaligned erection, are helping even remotely.

If he wasn't hard, this would be easy. He'd simply say that he had enough of Dimitri _massaging him_ and get up. 

Except… that he can't very well do that, not considering how blatantly obvious his erection is right now.

"Boar," he grinds out, pain driving him on in his resistance. "Stop."

The hands are off him the next moment, Felix mourning their loss even in spite of the relief it brings, the ability to lift his hips even minutely already doing a great deal to ease the strain. "Felix?"

"I need to adjust," he explains, lifting up his hips to reach down and change the angle of his cock to face _up_ instead of _down._

The relief is immediate, and with it, the way his cock seems intent on demanding more from him, continued friction instead of the brief second of attention he allowed it. 

"Felix," he hears Dimitri say behind him, the sound making dread settle in his gut.. "Are you--"

He's not going to like this, is he. 

"Just spit it out, boar."

"Are you... " His voice drops to a whisper, Dimitri leaning into Felix's ear, close. "... erect?"

"By Sothis, can you _not_ say it like that?"

"Are you?" Dimitri asks again, every bit as alarmed as he was the first time, if not more so. 

"None of your business, is it."

"Wh-- how can it not be my business if I caused this? Why didn't you say anything?"

"You _didn't,_ and this has nothing to do with you. It would do you well not to be so full of yourself."

"Felix, please. My hands could not possibly have been so good as to--"

" _Shut up._ " At this rate Dimitri is going to come out of this convinced that he's either god's gift to massage (he is) or that Felix has latent, repressed feelings for him (he most certainly does not). Not that he can have him thinking either of these things is true. "It just happened."

"Felix…"

Now would be a great time to be able to pull his pants up and walk away. Unfortunately, he's still in no position to do so. He's… stuck here now.

"Perhaps you simply need to… relieve yourself?"

"I don't need to take a leak, wise-ass."

"No, I meant-- _relieve_ yourself."

Felix blinks. "I'm not going to just... touch myself on an extremely public beach while surrounded by our classmates. Have you gone mad?"

"Might I help you, then?"

His words send Felix's mind racing. Dimitri, touching him? _Also_ on an extremely public beach and surrounded by their classmates, no doubt. Not much better, that. But the thought--

Is a dangerous one, he decides. Felix stalls it there, refusing to think about Dimitri's hands on him in any capacity. Or, at least… in any capacity beyond what he's already been doing.

"No," he says. Then, for good measure, "Don't be absurd."

But the thought seems to have stuck, relentlessly pawing at the forefront of his mind. Dimitri, taking him in hand, holding him close and telling him how deeply he cares for him even in spite of what an absolute brat he's been to him for literal years by now--

"I wouldn't mind," Dimitri says, wrenching Felix back out of his traitorous daydreams. "And I wouldn't tell anyone."

He can't be serious. In spite of his incredulity, however, the glower Felix levels at him is met with nothing but an earnest desire to help him. 

That's the most frustrating part, he thinks. That Dimitri is doing this out of nothing more than the intent to help a friend, not an intrinsic desire to do more. 

As if… he'd want him to. 

The thought pricks at the back of his neck, suddenly warm as he turns back to face the sand before him. 

"Why," he hears himself say, his voice coming out sounding foreign even to his own ears. "So you can add another notch to your list of accomplishments? So you can feel better about yourself? Make Felix humiliate himself in front of me so I can rest easy knowing I'm a good person? You _disgust_ me."

Maybe that response was unwarranted. Too harsh. But he doesn't see any point in making the truth any easier for the boar to swallow. 

Even if looking back at him now-- affronted and shocked-- hurts something deep inside his gut.

"Felix," he mutters, the same hurt having seemingly crawled into his throat as well, there just to make Felix feel guilty, "I never-- I didn't think--"

"That's right, you didn't," he snaps, turning back around to glower elsewhere, anywhere but at that achingly pained, heartbroken stare. "I'll leave in a second, so just-- let me wait to get my dignity back before I bother trying to stand up."

"I… truly did just wish to help. I frequently… ah, Felix, you must know it's a problem I experience all too frequently."

Felix feels his brain stutter to a halt. 

_What?_

"What are you talking about."

"I always feel dreadfully ashamed whenever I… ah… feel the need, I simply thought-- perhaps if someone else were to help--"

By the goddess. The boar's logic was that it would be easier to bear the shame of jerking off if someone else were to do it for him?

"Is that what you want?" he hears himself ask, color crawling across his features all the way up to his ears. "For someone to jerk you off when you get hard?"

"Felix, please--"

"For _me_ to jerk you off when you get hard?"

"Of course not! -- no, wait, that's-- I wouldn't wish anyone to have to-- I simply wish for you not to suffer as I do--"

"Keep digging your grave, boar, go on."

"Neither of us is particularly… good at asking for anything."

"You think I want your pity? Your _charity_?"

Dimitri blinks, mortified, looking very much as though he's entered a minefield he never intended to step into.

"Felix, please! That's not what-- I didn't mean--"

Turning around to face him once more, Felix stares, incredulous. "Then what _did_ you mean? That you'd enjoy being treated like a whore? I come in your hand and then we never talk about it again?"

"No! I-- of course not!"

"Then what? You want to fuck me?" His own cock twitches traitorously. "Thought your… stupid, magical fingers would be enough to make me want to jump into bed with you so you could have your way with me?"

It's the sight of movement that ends up drawing his gaze, Felix glancing down at Dimitri's crotch as his eyes go wide. 

It can't be. 

He-- wouldn't, would he?

"Boar," he says slowly, his words measured and careful as his eyes pivot back up at him. "Are you hard?"

Watching Dimitri's adam's apple bob up and down is a sight in and of itself, his nerves more than self-evident in his eyes.

"I--"

"Is that why you did all this? Because you want to have your way with me?" Once more, his cock twitches.

"A-apologies, Felix, but I-- it just happened, I never intended--" He's shaking his head now, terror seeming to have found its way into his eyes. "I-- I'll go. Forgive me, I shouldn't have--"

He's about to _get up_ when Felix promptly grabs hold of his forearm, his grip tight. 

"Where the fuck do you think you're going."

The look that greets him is filled with confusion as much as it is fear. Fear of what-- of Felix holding this against him forever? 

Probably. He's held far less significant transgressions against him for far longer before. 

"I… I just thought you-- you wouldn't wish me here with you, Felix. Not after--" Dimitri makes a pained noise. "-- for which I cannot repent enough, but I really am sorry--"

He just doesn't understand. Isn't Felix just as hard as he is? What ground does he have to stand on that Dimitri doesn't? What sort of hypocrite does Dimitri take him for?

"Aren't you going to finish what you started?" he asks instead, Dimitri's eyes going wide.

"... w-what?"

"You want to make this up to me? Take responsibility for the mess you've made."

"Felix…"

"Or feel guilty forever, I guess. Not my problem. But if you actually want me to forgive, you'll stop acting like a coward and touch my fucking back already."

The motion is painfully slow, Dimitri reaching out to hover over Felix's back as though terrified of what might happen if he should continue with his earlier attempts at applying sunscreen at all. A part of Felix feels tempted to point out that he's not a bomb that's about to go off, but then Dimitri's dig back into his back in all the right places, Felix exhaling with sharp relief, a sound he's only a little grateful isn't a moan this time.

"Straddle me," he tells him a few skillful strokes of his hands later only for Dimitri to freeze up again.

"... Felix?"

"Either give me a proper massage or don't give me one at all, boar."

Dimitri's swallow is _audible_ , but-- even so, he moves to straddle him all the same, his erection pressing right up against the cleft of Felix's cheeks, nestled wonderfully by his body. As though it had always belonged there.

Felix's hand slips between his body and the towel, curling his fingers around his own erection.

If the boar is getting off, then fuck it, so is he.

"There's… hardly anything proper about this," Dimitri mutters as fingertips ghost the skin of Felix's back, the words soft.

"You can always stop," Felix grinds out, patience having long left the window. 

"I… do not wish to." 

The words slip out of Dimitri harried, scrambling to answer-- as though he really does want this. The thought is a comforting one, more so than Felix cares to admit.

The massage continues from there, Felix practically feeling himself melt into the beach with a soft groan-- until Dimitri lets out a gasp, gently rutting against him.

"M-my apologies--"

"Would you stop holding back? It's not like I'm not getting something out of this, too."

Permission, it would seem, was all it took. Each and every rut of Dimitri against him, using his body to take his own pleasure, only manages to rock his own erection into his hand, the friction exquisite. 

If he closes his eyes, he can just about imagine that it's the boar's hand wrapped around him as he's fucking him.

The thought is a frustratingly welcome one. It's something he shouldn't want, and yet can't help but. And right here, on the brink of his own release, it's hard to deny himself the truth.

"Forgive me, Felix," Dimitri gasps, his hands running up his back as if to keep up the ruse of this being more than just a convenient cover for their mutual masturbation, "but I fear my restraint is not with me right now-- I'm not myself when it's you. As such, I-- dread to think how short a time I will last, for fear that you might think less of me, or an incapable, inconsiderate partner--"

"Shut _up!_ " Felix growls, his hand tightening his grip around his cock. "Stop prattling on and just tell me you want to fuck me."

"I do, of course I do-- ah, Felix--!"

Dimitri's hips stutter against him, Felix unable to help but follow him. 

Well, it wouldn't be the first time he rendered himself sticky with his shame, just… never under these circumstances.

"We're going to need to change," he mutters, shaking his head at himself. What were they thinking?

"Hey guys," Claude's voice cuts through the haze of their own little world, Felix feeling himself freeze. "If you could stick to Dimitri's room in the future, I'd appreciate it. Since I share a wall with Felix, and all."

He's gone the next second, patting the beach umbrella shielding them from the sun and too many onlookers as he walks away. 

_Goddess,_ how many people must have noticed them? How fucking obvious were they?

"Ah," Dimitri says. "Hm."

"Get off of me." 

Dimitri turns out to look exactly as red as he imagines himself to be looking, sitting up and wiping his hand off on a stray napkin. Mortifying. 

"I'm going to change and wash up," he says, shaking his head, more than a little annoyed with himself. He still can't bring himself to look out over the beach to take a survey of what other mortified and amused passersby might have seen their little dry humping display. "And then we can just forget this ever happened."

This time, it's Dimitri who stops him when he tries to get up, grabbing hold of his forearm. And before he has a chance to ask him what the fuck he thinks he's doing-- 

Dimitri is kissing him.

It's soft, too much so, barely even lasting ten seconds, but by the time Dimitri pulls back, Felix knows he's blushing all over again. 

"I don't want to forget, Felix. Come back here when you're done?"

"What? Sure, it's-- I'll come back, I guess."

"Promise?"

"Fine, yes. I promise," he snaps, and tries to ignore the little thrill that runs through him at the thought of seeing Dimitri again, of this being more than a one time thing. Of Claude's fears being far from unfounded.

He fails. 

Ignoring it is impossible. Dimitri always was impossible to ignore. 

The difference this time, Felix finds, is that he doesn't even want to.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S.: Dimitri was right that you should wear sunscreen in the shade, but wrong about rubbing in sunscreen! It loses a great deal of its effectiveness if you do. So next time you want to dry hump your former best friend on the beach, just tell them. Don't resort to massaging sunscreen. And if you do, apply more after!
> 
> Special thanks on helping me come through on this fic go to [69natto](https://twitter.com/69natto/), [panacotts](https://twitter.com/panacotts/), and [marureenu](https://twitter.com/marureenu/)! 
> 
> Come yell about dimilix with me on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/androugenius/)!


End file.
